


Last Thought

by DreadArtemis



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien/Human Relationships, F/F, IN SPACE!, Lesbian Character, Lesbians in Space, Near Death, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Really Character Death, Original Character(s), POV Lesbian Character, Regret, Romance, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 13:15:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30089646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreadArtemis/pseuds/DreadArtemis
Summary: Adrift and facing imminent death, a space lesbian yearns in space. One of a series of short writing experiments.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character





	Last Thought

The movies would have you believe space is full of sound, beeps and such, engines, laser noises. It's not like that at all. There's no air out here. No medium to carry the soundwaves. Nothing prepared me for how quiet it is.

None of the pod's systems are working and all that remain are the gradually failing emergency lights. It is so utterly silent. I feel like I'm alone in the entire universe. I may as well be.

I'm not sure how long the air in here will last. There's a small oxygen tank that will give me another couple of hours if I use it. I hope that in the end it will just be like falling asleep, that it will be gradual enough that I just pass out before.. you know.

Or perhaps I'll freeze to death first.

I've spent what seems like hours weeping in abject terror, but of course I have no way of knowing how much time has passed. Now I have a headache to go with the backache I’ve had from my spine stretching out in the absence of gravity.

And I've become oddly calm. Either I'm accepting my fate or I'm just too exhausted to keep up the panic.

I have no idea what is broken and even if I did, I don't have the expertise to fix it. I've tried. I've tried everything I could think of.

I'm not usually given to swearing much, but today, my last day, I dropped enough F-bombs to figuratively destroy a city.

I retrieve a space blanket from a small container mounted on the wall in the back and the idea of a space blanket in space makes me laugh for a moment. Then I feel like a maniac. I'm about to die. I'm laughing at something this dumb when I'm about to die. I wonder if it's a coping mechanism.

I sit in my seat and pull up my legs, curling into a ball with the thin silvery plastic blanket around me. For a while I do nothing but try to slow my breathing. I doubt it will do much good but I feel like I ought to.

I begin to tremble. I am afraid of the silence. Fear pierces into my chest like an array of icy javelins, working in deeper and deeper.

This is a lonely death.

I do not wish she was here. I would not wish this fate upon her. I would not wish to see a single moment of consternation upon her face.

I have wondered, sometimes, if it counts as convergent evolution if the species in question are from different worlds. Her people are so very human.

I think it must be very like how it was for people in the past to be friends with someone from another country. We know each other's language, at least to some degree. We like to discuss little differences and similarities about where we are from. I have always loved to learn things like that.

It just took us longer to travel there when we wanted to go and visit.

I feel my jaw tighten, my lip wobble. It's difficult to make it stop so I give up trying. There's nobody here to see it anyway. No point maintaining my composure.

Because now all I can think of is the cool pastel mint tone of her skin and the uncannily beautiful shape of her thin face, her huge eyes sparkling with myriad colours.

So now I have reached the stage of thinking over my regrets.

I wish I had seen more places, more of the wonders on my to-visit list.

I wish I had read more books.

But more than that I wish I had just told her how I feel. How I felt. How I will have felt. I know what I mean. Maybe the hypoxia is kicking in.

It might not have been too bad. Her species have never had any issue with homosexuality so at least she wouldn’t have been disgusted by it.

I wonder if I'll ever be found. I could write her a goodbye note. Although I'm not sure what with. Maybe blood, on the wall? No, that's terrifying, why the hell would I even think that? That would scar her for life!

Who am I kidding? They won't find me. This is all moot.

I should just go to sleep. Sleep and never wake up.

I should.

I let my eyes fall closed and wait. It's cold. I am going to die with a headache in an uncomfortable chair.

I am numb and disoriented when I open my eyes next. And her face is before me. That beloved face. I didn't ever believe in any sort of god, or even in luck really, so I don't know who or what to thank when the urge to express gratitude comes upon me. But thankful I am, that my brain chose to show me this as it dies. That the chemicals breaking down in there have resulted in this last thought of her, this last moment of comfort. This last feeling of warmth.

But then I see her face looks sad. This isn't right. I don't want to see her sad, that doesn't ease my passing at all!

She moves closer and gives me a greeting in her mother tongue. And it is strangely clear. I thought it was going to be like a dream but I have never heard this clearly in my dreams.

She tells me she thought I was dead, and reaches to gently run her fingertips down the underside of my chin. It always reminded me of those old paintings of people kneeling before Zeus and reaching to tug at his beard in entreaty. Among her people this is a demonstration of affection.

And I feel it.

I have certainly never felt anything like touch in a dream.

"Am I not dead?"

It would seem I am not dead.

I'm going to start working on those regrets.


End file.
